


Pillowtalk

by iwanttowriteyouafic



Category: One Direction (Band), Zayn Malik (Musician)
Genre: Barebacking, Bottom Zayn, Clothes Kink, Exhibitionism, M/M, Pining, Rimming, Top Liam, roommates au
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-04
Updated: 2016-03-04
Packaged: 2018-05-24 16:39:21
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,774
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6159896
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/iwanttowriteyouafic/pseuds/iwanttowriteyouafic
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Cautiously, with a shaking hand, he pushed the door to his room open. And there, sprawled out on his bed and clutching Liam’s jersey, was Zayn. </p><p> </p><p>(Or the one where Liam's clothes go missing and he's not prepared at all for where they turn up.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Pillowtalk

**Author's Note:**

  * For [jaecchi](https://archiveofourown.org/users/jaecchi/gifts).



> This is for jaecchi (Mia) on tumblr, who does amazing NSFW fanart and little smutty dribbles, so you should totally check her out :) xx
> 
> *** PLEASE DO NOT REPOST ANY OF MY WORKS ON OTHER SITES WITHOUT GETTING MY PERMISSION FIRST. Do not post copies of my work on livejournal, wattpad, fanfiction.net or anywhere, even if you have the intention of giving me credit. I do not want them on those sites at this point in time. So far, I have only given permission for my fic 'Pride' to be translated into Russian and posted on a Russian fanfiction website. Any other copies of my work that I come across will be reported. Please don't do it. It really sucks that I have to even write this note. ***

Liam knows he’s making an absolute mess, but he refuses to admit defeat. His jersey had been _right there_ on top of his washing basket last night. He had been meaning to wash it, but in between classes and basketball practice he hadn’t had the time. And he needs his jersey now, because coach was bringing a photographer into the gym session today to get some shots for the university’s school paper.

Fuck, Cowell’s going to kill him.

“Zayn?” he called out, once again rifling through the clothes on the floor.

A head of dark hair peered into the room a moment later. “Yeah?”

“Have you seen my jersey?” Liam asked him, only sparing the boy a glance before redirecting his attention. He should already be at the gym, _shit_.

“Nah,” Zayn says indifferently. Liam looks up and finds the boy casually chewing an apple as he watches Liam have a miniature break down. “What do you need it for?”

“Photos,” Liam sighs, pushing himself to his feet. It’s definitely not here. “I’ll see if Niall has a spare with him.”

“Righty-o,” Zayn says, and then he’s wondering off again. Liam shoots a text off to Niall, and shoves all the clothes on the floor back into the washing basket while he waited for a reply. He got a simple thumbs up emoji and the usual heart that Niall loves to send to everyone. Liam just shook his head and grabbed his duffle bag, calling out a quick goodbye to Zayn before leaving.

 

Zayn was a great best friend and roommate in a lot of ways.

Firstly, he’s always on top of dinner. Whether he’s cooking or wants Liam to cook or has ordered take-out, he always makes sure that it’s arranged well in advance. There hasn’t been a time in months where they spent too long trying to pick what to eat, because they would have already discussed it hours before.

Secondly, he has the best taste in music. _The best_. And so Liam didn’t mind hearing it blasting at odd hours, sex songs at six a.m. or love ballads at noon, always discordant but somehow exactly what Liam feels like hearing every time. They’d received several complaints from neighbours about listening to Musiq Soulchild at three in the morning, but it never really phased them.

Thirdly, Zayn loves dogs, just like Liam. While they’re not allowed one in the flat, Zayn has made a habit of sending Liam photos of any and all dogs he sees when he’s out. It’s endearing as fuck.

But was one huge downside: he never answers his god damn phone.

“Pick up, pick up, pick up,” Liam muttered impatiently, jiggling his leg as he waited. Somehow in the mess of trying to locate his jersey he’d forgotten to bring his shorts, and now sat on a bench in his jeans while the rest of the team were well and truly into their first circuits.

“Still not answering?” Louis asked, grunting as he pumped weights (which were definitely too heavy for him, but the coach’s assistant was watching, and Louis had been trying to impress Harry since he showed up three weeks ago).

“Nope,” Liam said, standing up. “I’m gonna have to go back up there.”

“No point in coming back, then,” Cowell said. He clapped a hand on Liam’s shoulder, smiling easily. “Photographer’s cancelled for today, she’ll be in tomorrow. So just promise me you’ll have all your gear for tomorrow, yeah?”

“Yes, Coach,” Liam nodded. He grabbed his bag and ruffled Louis’ hair on the way out, making Niall bark out in laughter when Louis dropped one of the dumbbells in surprise.

The door was unlocked when he got back to the flat fifteen minutes later. It was silent inside, but that wasn’t unexpected. Zayn had said something about having a meeting on. Should be home in about half an hour, actually.

And then he heard it: a bump and a low groan, raspy and unfamiliar.

Liam stiffened immediately. “Zayn?”

There was no reply. Liam debated on what to do, whether to confront whoever was here or go and grab one of the campus security. Liam was decently bulky, could definitely hold his own, but who knew who was in here? Everybody knew that this building was full of guys in the prime of their lives, twenty-something’s who lived in pairs or small groups. So whoever was stupid enough to break in obviously would believe they could take on a decent beating and come out on top.

Liam really didn’t want to hit anyone.

Stupidly, he crept closer towards the noise. He heard another groan, followed shortly after by a gasp. Liam furrowed his brow in confusion. Is this what all robberies sound like? Are they picking up something particularly heavy? The sound was coming from Liam’s room, and the only heavy thing he could think that was in there was his bed. Why the fuck would someone want to steal his bed?

Cautiously, with a shaking hand, he pushed the door to his room open. And there, sprawled out on his bed and clutching Liam’s jersey, was Zayn.

Liam almost spoke but the words died in his throat as he watched Zayn grind his bare crotch into Liam’s sheets, eyes closed and mouth parted. His hips were working in a constant swivel, stuttering a little as his body responded to the friction. Sweat glistened along his naked back, the pale flesh of his thighs, the back of his neck. His hair was slightly damp where it fell over his forehead, somehow accentuating the hollow of his cheeks and the angle of his jaw as he breathed out a soft moan. His fingers were curled intensely around Liam’s jersey, so close to his face that he could probably smell it, smell Liam’s scent-

Liam wasn’t consciously thinking when he started to palm himself. It was a natural response: here was Zayn, gorgeous and frantic, spread out on his bed and getting off on the smell of Liam.

Eyes still closed, Zayn’s free hand wound down the bed and behind him, clutching his own ass gently and groaning out. And then his hand trailed a little further along, a single digit disappearing between his cheeks. Zayn groaned loudly at this, arching his back a little. Liam squeezed himself tightly, holding back his own moan as he watched. And, fuck, this was so wrong, but Liam couldn’t tear his eyes away.

Zayn removed his fingers briefly to slicken his digits with spit before he returned them, hissing as he pushed in and began to thrust. Slowly at first, getting used to the feel of it, but then he twisted his wrist and his whole body shuddered. Liam started to back away, knowing that Zayn would not appreciate him watching this, but then Zayn twisted his fingers again and-

“Liam!” he cried out, back curling as he shuddered in pleasure.

Liam couldn’t hold back anymore. “Right here,” he murmured, swallowing thickly.

Zayn’s eyes flew open, unfocused for a moment before they focussed on him. His mouth dropped open in surprise. “Liam,” he gasped. “I’m so sorry-“

“Don’t stop,” Liam said. He felt like begging, like he might explode if this all stopped now. He’d been dreaming of Zayn like this for months, and he sure as hell wanted to keep this going as long as he can.

Zayn blinked up at him in confusion for a moment. They exchanged a look, tense and heated, before Zayn slowly began to thrust his fingers again. Liam tracked the movement with an almost predatory hunger in him, transfixed on how Zayn clutched his jersey closer as he thrust in a little deeper. “Li…” he sighted out after a moment, eyes fluttering shut.

Liam unbuttoned his jeans to relieve some of the pressure on his now-aching cock, feeling uncharacteristically calm and in control as he circled the bed. He came to stand at the foot, now with a clear view of how Zayn’s fingers were swallowed by his hole. “On your knees,” Liam directed quietly. Zayn complied quickly, thighs quaking a little as he propped himself up, chest still firmly pressed to the mattress as he raised his ass in the air.

Liam moaned out loud at the sight: Zayn’s face pressed into the sheets, swollen hole being parted by nimble fingers, toes curling when he hit a certain spot. So fucking gorgeous.

“Please touch me,” Zayn all but whined.

“Not yet,” Liam said, voice thick. “I’m liking the view.”

Zayn’s head dropped further into the mattress, moaning lowly as his chest flushed. Liam watched the steady rise and fall of Zayn’s torso in time with his breath, watched how Zayn gently spread his own cheeks open, teasing himself by dragging his fingers achingly slowly in and out of his hole. His digits were mostly dry, probably adding to the dichotomy of sensations the boy was having.

“Do you have any lube?” Liam asked thickly.

Zayn sighted out against the sheets. “I’d rather just have your mouth.”

And, fuck, Liam was trying to hold out, but he wasn’t able to deny Zayn anything at this point. He surged forward, hands immediately coming to rest on Zayn’s hips out of instinct, smoothing over soft skin that he hadn’t touched before, parting Zayn’s flesh in the way he’d been dreaming of doing for months. He felt Zayn shudder beneath his hands at the contact, removing his fingers and raising his ass into Liam’s grip, arching his back enticingly. Liam leant forward and ghosted his mouth over Zayn’s skin, breathing hotly over the fluttering hole that clenched on nothing in anticipation

“Liam,” Zayn whined, trying to push back onto Liam’s mouth but unable to go anywhere with Liam’s firm grip on him. “Liam _please_.”

“Do you know how good you look right now?” Liam asks almost idly, biting gently on soft flesh and feeling Zayn keen from it. “Fucking amazing, Zayn. Like the best dream I could ever have.”

“Always dream of you,” Zayn admitted, still impatiently trying to get Liam’s mouth on him.

“Really?” Liam asked, purposely dropping his voice lower before sucking gently on Zayn’s rim. “What were you thinking of just before?” he asked, biting gently. “Thinking of this?”

“Mmhmm,” Zayn affirms with a soft whine, body shuddering a little. “Thinking of you eating me out until I cry.”

Fuck, that just went straight to Liam’s cock. He was aching now, desperate for attention, but he wanted to string this out, wanted to hear Zayn whine. “Want me to do that now?”

“Want you to fuck me,” Zayn says. And then he gasps out as Liam’s licks a fat stripe over his hole, lingering on the sensitive rim for long enough moment to have Zayn cursing into the sheets.

“Soon,” Liam says. “But right now I want to help you finish that thought you had.”

And then he was surging down, tongue lapping greedily at Zayn’s hole. The boy made an aborted noise and sank further into the mattress, back arching and tensing from the assault of Liam’s tongue. Liam went with him, plunged in deeper enthralled with how fucking vocal Zayn was. He sounded amazing, gasping out incoherent words into the sheets, fucking his own hips down into the bed and grinding in search of that sweet friction, muscles taut and flexing sporadically as Liam ate him raw. He switched between different techniques, licking shallow stripes one moment before fucking in deep the next, pausing to drag his tongue over sensitive skin before thrusting quickly into the tight heat. Zayn responded to it all, whether it be mewling or cursing or whining into the mattress, until finally he let out a sob.

“Fuck, Li,” he whispered out, accent thick and wet. “’s too _much_ -“

“You love it,” Liam cut him off. And Liam knew this as a definite, knew that Zayn allows liked a challenge, and that he wouldn’t have said anything about being eaten out if he didn’t truly want it. So Liam flattened a firm hand on the base of Zayn’s spine and held him there before ducking back down and licking Zayn open lazily.

“Fuck,” Zayn moaned out, voice choking. “Li- fuck, I’m- I can’t- _Liam_.”

Liam just hummed against the boy’s skin, grinning as he felt Zayn shiver in pleasure. He tongued over the rim with kitten licks, adding pressure for only a second before pulling back, repeating the gesture over and over while Zayn writhed beneath him. And Zayn was just an absolute mess now, squirming and moaning and sobbing out in loud hiccups.

Liam pulled away for a just a moment and found Zayn with a tear-streaked face and still clutching Liam’s jersey.

“Why that jersey?” Liam asks, sliding a casual finger into Zayn’s hole, feeling the tight muscle clench and flutter around him as Zayn gapes.

“Has your – name – on it,” Zayn manages out, breathing irregularly as Liam thrusted his finger gently. Zayn sighs out when Liam returns his tongue alongside the digit. “Sometimes I – wear it around- around the f-flat,” he continues through his groaning.

“Do you wear just the jersey?” Liam asks. He pulls his tongue away and instead leans over Zayn’s body, caging the boy in with one arm while he continues thrusting with the other. “Walk around naked with just my shirt on? Do you like feeling branded, huh?”

Zayn fucking _whimpered_ at his words, fingers clutching the bedsheets tightly.

“You love that, don’t you?” Liam barrels on, lips right at the shell of Zayn’s ear. “Love the thought of being mine, letting me fuck you whenever I want, letting me show you off to whoever I wanted.”

“ _Liam_ ,” Zayn sobbed. He was grinding more desperately into the sheets now, crying out with every thrust of Liam’s finger.

“Bet you’d love it, having everyone know who you belong to,” Liam says, pressing a second digit to the rim of Zayn’s hole. “Everyone knowing that you’re fucking _gagging_ for my cock-“

Zayn comes with a cry. He’s still for a moment, mouth ajar and body tense before he collapses in on himself, back arching and limbs flattening with his release. He sighs out Liam’s name as he thrust his crotch through the aftershock, accidentally fucking himself back on Liam’s fingers and hissing at the contact.

Liam bit down on his shoulder gently, cooing softly as the boy’s heart rate slowly calmed. “That’s right, baby, get it all out.”

“Oh fuck,” Zayn groans out. He tries to sit up but Liam holds him there, fingers still firmly inside of Zayn and thrusting shallowly.

“There’s lube in the second drawer,” Liam directs, nodding to his bedside table when Zayn looks back at him quizzically.

It seems to take Zayn a moment to process, and then he’s wide-eyed and scrambling forward, ripping the drawer open and pulling out the half-empty bottle. He almost chucks it off the bed in his haste to pass it to Liam.

“Someone’s eager,” Liam comments, removing his fingers and dribbling the cool substance over them.

“You have no idea how long I’ve been waiting for this,” Zayn tells him, voice still thick.

Liam thinks back to how long he’s fantasies about Zayn in this way, loses track after a memory from six months ago where he dreamt about Zayn on his knees and letting Liam fuck into his mouth, and figures he can understand Zayn’s impatience.

He drives two fingers back into Zayn, the glide now made easier by the lube. Zayn tried muffling a whimper into the crook of his own arm, but Liam was quick to pull it away. “Want to hear you,” he whispered, kissing gently at the bottom of Zayn’s spine.

And fuck, did he hear him. He crooked his fingers and brushed over Zayn’s sweet spot, making the boy cry out loudly as he pressed on the bundle of nerves over and over, eliciting broken sobs and strained cursing. When he added a third fingers Zayn started pushing down on his hands, needy little gasps escaping him as his ass squelched obscenely.

“Feels so good,” he moaned, hips rolling in tiny circles as Liam built a proper rhythm. “Can’t wait to have your dick in me – wanna feel you cum inside me.”

“Shit,” Liam hissed, hips stuttering forward on their own accord. He was acutely aware of the fact that he was still fully dressed while Zayn was absolutely naked, and it was making his head swim. Then he had an idea. “I’m gonna undress, baby,” he began, “while you put on a little show for me.”

“A show?” Zayn asked with a croak, trying to bury his head.

“Want you to put on my jersey and fuck yourself a bit,” Liam told him. “And then I want you to ride me.”

Zayn closed his eyes at this, hips twitching weakly. “Oh fuck.”

“Be a good boy and do what I’ve asked,” Liam commands gently, pressing a final kiss to Zayn’s shoulder before pulling back completely, extracting his fingers and sliding off the bed.

He undressed slowly: peeling off his jeans with rigid control, teasing fingers down his thighs as he removed his briefs, ducking out of his shirt in a slow, fluid movement that had his heart slowly slightly.

Meanwhile Zayn was sliding on Liam’s jersey, bold black letters reading ‘PAYNE’ across his shoulders. The material hung a little loosely, dipping low so that Liam could still see the top of Zayn’s fantail tattoo. Zayn looked back at Liam over his shoulder, smiling lewdly as he arched his back and raised the bottom of the jersey slightly to reveal the jut of his ass. “You gonna fuck me now, Liam?”

Like he even had to ask. Liam climbed back up the sheets and laid down quickly, grinning as Zayn clambered on top of him a little more than patiently. He didn’t ask for any more lube, didn’t try to slick up Liam’s dick, but instead just grabbed on to the base of Liam’s cock and sank down inch by inch, the glide slightly rough from the minimal amount of lube aiding the way.

“Oh god,” Zayn groaned when he bottomed out, had hanging low while he adjusts.

Liam smooths a hand over the jersey and up Zayn’s back soothingly. “Gonna make you feel so good,” he promises. “Make you scream out the name on your back.”

“You talk a big game,” Zayn managed, swivelling his hips a little. And then he was rising a little and falling again, fucking himself down onto Liam’s dick. He quickly built a rhythm, winding his hips in tight circles a half dozen times and then rolling upwards, rising until nothing but the dead of Liam’s prick was still inside before sinking down again, breathing shallowly. His dick had thickened again, and laid angry and heavy between them, rubbing wetly along Liam’s abs while Zayn did his best to keep upright.

But it was becoming clear that Zayn wasn’t getting the feeling he wanted.

So Liam flipped them, and fucked down into his tight heat.

Zayn cried out at the first thrust, chanting “right there, right there, _fuck_ ” to let Liam know he was hitting Zayn’s prostate dead on. Liam ground in deeper, revelling in how breathy and frantic Zayn sounded, how obscene the part of his mouth was. Liam pulled one of his legs over his shoulder and fucked in relentlessly, too keyed up to take things slowly anymore. He just want to make Zayn cum again so bad.

“Liam, Liam,” Zayn gasped out in time with his thrust, nails coming to scratch at Liam’s back. He arched his neck, giving Liam access to duck down and suck a bruise into him while he continued to pound into him.

“Sound so pretty,” Liam told him, biting at the indents of his collarbone. “Wish the whole world could hear you right now.”

“Liam,” Zayn whispered again.

“Everyone would know you’re mine,” Liam continued, voice low and slightly stammered as he fucks down into the boy. “Look at you, babe – wearing my clothes and everything. Want everyone to know you’re mine.”

“Yours,” Zayn agrees, back arching. “Please, Liam, I need-“

He cuts off when Liam grasps his cock, pumping quickly in time with the hammering of his thrust. Liam could feel the familiar curl of pleasure beginning to tighten in him too, body begging to cum. He pumped Zayn a little faster.

“Liam, Liam, Liam,” he chanted, hips working back against Liam’s in time with his thrusts. And then his lips were parting again, neck craning obscenely as he released all over Liam’s jersey. His pink cock flushed with exertion, matching the flush that eclipsed his uncovered skin. He clenched around Liam as he came, still cursing as he rode the aftershocks.

“Oh, shit,” Liam groaned, and then he was coming, too. It felt like a tidal wave, crashing into him and knocking him unbalanced, leaving him unable to do anything but stutter his hips forward before he was all but collapsing onto Zayn, sucking frantically at the boy’s neck. Zayn hissed at the pressure on his sensitive cock, pushing at Liam until the boy rolled off of him and laid down on his back.

They laid next to each other for what seemed like only seconds before Zayn was getting up.

“Where’re you going?” Liam asks, still breathless as he tried to recover.

There was a slump to Zayn’s shoulders as he stripped off Liam’s jersey and threw it into the washing basket. “Should probably go back to my own room.”

Liam frowned at that. He grabbed Zayn’s wrist so that the boy was forced to look at him. Liam had never seen him look so doe-eyed, clearly worried about what just happened and resigned to anything good. “Zayn,” Liam said softly. “Cuddle with me, yeah?”

Zayn shook his head. “I can’t just- it’s not a game to me, Liam.”

“I never said it was,” Liam told him earnestly. “Please cuddle with me.”

Zayn still didn’t sit back down. Liam sat up a little, still recovering from his fantastic orgasm but trying to sort out his muddled brain because he knew whatever he said next would make or break this.

“I’ve liked you for ages, Zayn,” he said finally, watching the boy’s reaction imploringly. “And if you don’t want me like that, then fine, walk away. But if there’s even a chance you’d like to give this a shot, please stay.”

He waited with bated breath as Zayn processed this. Then, slowly, he sat back down on the bed, leant over, and kissed Liam for the first time.


End file.
